


Feeling Fine.

by BarPurple



Series: Deca'verse [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Demon Dean, First Blade, Gen, Mark of Cain, Post Season 9, season10
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-09
Updated: 2014-06-09
Packaged: 2018-02-04 00:51:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1761117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BarPurple/pseuds/BarPurple
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is taking his new state of being far better than Crowley had expected. Truth be told Crowley is a little worried.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Feeling Fine.

As Dean left Cain he was aware of a strange feeling in his chest. It took him a moment to identify it, but he suddenly realized it was peace. He felt at peace and if that wasn’t the most screwed up thing about today . . . then again considering the last twenty-four hours . . . this was definitely one of the screwed up things about today anyway.

The First Blade had been vibrating in his hand when he went to Cain; thrumming with the need to destroy its previous owner. The second Cain had agreed the Blade was now Dean’s it had settled and the rage and bloodlust he’d been struggling to control had receded. It was still there, but now he felt in control of it rather than the other way round.

He wasn’t worried that he was a demon now. He didn’t have any urges to set fire to an orphanage or steal from nuns. He did use his niffy teleport skill to liberate a bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue from a liquor store, but he’d been shop lifting the essentials since he was a kid; so it’s not like that was out of character for him. He found himself a nice tallish building and sat watching the world go by enjoying his scotch. Dean wasn’t naive enough to think that this feeling would last. The other shoe was bound to drop at some point, but for now he decided he deserved a little me time.

With the feeling of peace came clarity of thought. Dean had fought tooth and nail against becoming a demon since he’d sold his soul. Back then the idea of becoming one of the evil SOB’s that had killed his Mom was the worst thing he could conceive. Now he found himself laughing at how limited his imagination had been. His time in the Pit hadn’t been a barrel of laughs, but compared to the Apocalypse, Leviathans, Purgatory plus all the normal crap he dealt with day in day out it had been pretty simple. 

Just the hunting side of his life was enough to make him appreciate the peace the Mark of Cain had brought him. He didn’t even want to consider all the crap Sammy and Cas had put him through. Even letting his thoughts drift that way killed the pleasant buzz he had going on. For a few painful seconds he fell back into the lifelong habit of being worried about Sammy. Then it struck him; when had putting Sam first ever done any good? No matter what Dean did for him Sam bitched about it. His brother was a grown man he could stand on his own two feet. As for Castiel, the dude was a freaking angel who could certainly look out for himself. Dean Winchester was a free agent with no responsibilities and damn it if that didn’t feel awesome.

Less than half an hour later his mood was dampen slightly by the arrival of Crowley. Dean watched the King of Hell eye him wearily. It was almost funny the way Crowley was nervous, no afraid of him. Dean enjoyed it in silence for a while, entertaining himself by trying to increase Crowley’s fear with twitches of his hands and hard stares. It got annoying really fast.

“What do you want Crowley?”

The demon moved closer to the parapet where Dean was lounging, but stayed out of arms reach. Limey bugger wasn’t daft was he?

“Heaven’s open for business again.”

Dean nodded.

“Good to know it was worth getting stabbed for.”

Crowley licked his lips and pressed on.

“Moose seems to think you need a baby sitter while him and Cain look for a way to remove the Mark.”

Dean’s inner peace was shattered and the rage rose up in a rapid tide. Before Crowley could blink Dean had leaned over and snatched the lapels of his overcoat. Crowley found himself slowly dragged towards the hunter’s face. They were barely an inch apart when Dean said softly;

“That would be a very bad idea. The Blade is mine now and nobody is going to take it away from me. Understand?”

Crowley tried to lean back, but couldn’t get any distance from where Dean was holding him. Ever so carefully the King of Hell nodded and as quickly as Dean had attacked he let go and moved back. Crowley cleared his throat and smoothed his coat down.

“I’m only the messenger and for the record I know the Blade definitely belongs to you.”

Dean gave him a cheery smile and took a drink from his bottle of bourbon. The rapid mood swings unsettled Crowley so much he accepted a large swig from the bottle when Dean offered it to him. As he passed the bottle back Crowley realised Dean was humming to himself. The King of Hell couldn’t shake the impression he was about to poke a sleeping bear as he casually asked;

“How are you feeling Dean?”

Dean eyebrows quirked up and he chuckled.

“Touch feely crap from the King of Hell, really?”

Crowley shrugged.

“I was expecting more angst and barely contained rage, but you seem, well happy.”

There was evident disgust in Crowley’s tone on the last word.

“I am happy. Oh don’t look so confused it doesn’t suit you. I’ve simply embraced my fate. I’m a demon, it’s not gonna change so why beat myself up over it? As long as nobody tries to take what’s mine it’s all good with me. For the first time in longer than I can remember I feel peaceful, calm, and serene. Now is that enough chick flick crap or do we have to paint each other’s nails and talk about celebrities we like?”

Crowley opened his mouth then shut it again shaking his head. If there was one thing the King of Hell exceled at it was dealing with the unexpected; when in doubt fall back on the sass.

“Dean Winchester’s become a well-adjusted individual? I’ll be damned; again. To business then?”

Dean took a deep swig from the now nearly empty bottle and waited for Crowley to get to the point. Thankfully the King of Hell’s patience had just about had enough for one day so he didn’t have to wait long.

“When you said that Hell was simple you were right. Properly run Hell is very simple, unfortunately someone has recently thrown a spanner in the works.”

Dean rubbed that back of his neck.

“Let me guess that someone was Abaddon?”

“Got it in one. By the way have I said thank you for putting her out of my misery?”

“Trust me, it was my pleasure. So how’s she screwed up, actually just cut to the chase and tell me how bad it’ll get if Hell goes to Hell.”

Crowley stuck his hands in the pockets of his overcoat and rocked on his heels for a second, making a show of considering Dean’s question.

“Bottom line; the Apocalypse would look like a church picnic in comparison. We’re talking literally Hell on Earth. Thankfully there is a way to stop it, but I need your help.” 

“Okay.”

Dean stood up and stretched his arms over his head. Crowley was staring at him, puzzlement written on his features.

“Just okay? I say I need your help and you just say okay? Where are the traditional threats and macho posturing?”

“Look I got to do something with my time. It’s either help you save Hell, or take up golf.”

Dean couldn’t help but grin as Crowley actually looked hurt and said sulkily;

“I don’t think I like this new you.”

Dean rolled his eyes.

“Crowley, I’m a demon now; the only Knight of Hell. I don’t need to threaten you because there’s nothing bad you can do to me now.”

The King of Hell started to disagree, but before he’d even opened his mouth Dean was in front of him holding the First Blade at his throat. In a pleasant conversational tone Dean said;

“And if you try to pull that getting to me by hurting anyone else crap I’ll take your freaking head off before you can blink.”

Once again the rage vanished from Dean in a split second. As he started to stroll away across the roof Crowley said;

“See, it wasn’t so hard to observe the traditions now was it?”

All Crowley could think as he followed Dean from the roof was that Moose was not going to be happy when he heard about Dean’s new outlook on life. For once the idea of an unhappy Moose did not give Crowley a warm tingly feeling.


End file.
